A/N: Well. You know me. I've got a terrible weakness for modern AU high school fanfictions, it was only a matter of time really... So here this is. I don't know why but i was having a really difficult time writing both Fili and Kili and it just... so pardon any OOC-ness, and if you have any comments or suggestions, please MAKE THEM.

My friend summarized this story like this: fili is angst. kili is 3. bilbo and thorin is DOMESTIQUE. Modern AU... That was a very early draft, mind you...

Fandom: The Hobbit.

Characters/main pairing: Fili/Bofur and Bilbo/Thorin

Rating: M

Warnings:

Possible OOCness.

Sex in the future.

Curse words.

AU.

Teenage Angst.

Student/teacher relationship.

Feels.

Apologies for spelling and grammar.

Goodnight and good luck.

I Don't Know Where I'm Going
But I don't Think I'm Coming Home.

Chapter 1: I Miss My Mom and Dad For This?

Fíli glanced out of the window, both headphones in his music turned all the way up. He thought that maybe, just maybe the music would drowned out everything and the next time he blinked he wouldn't be in the situation he was in now. He wasn't so lucky. The boy closed his eyes once, for a long time, hoping he'd open them to find his old ceiling, but it wasn't. It was the blur of scenery. He leaned forward and rested his head on the window. The glass fogged up with his exhale. Fíli watched the black rocks and green hills roll by. The car made it way across the twisty roads until it slowed and Fíli opened his eyes again, watching as the town popped up into view, colorful houses sprawling before looming mountains. Finally the car turned off the main road and followed a smaller street up, up, up, into a small neighborhood, and after a few more turned they pulled into the driveway of a light brown house three story house, almost over taken by vines, a spire climbing off part of it, an old blue Rambler parked father in the round driveway. Fíli's uncle shifted into park and got out of the driver's seat, Fíli sat in the passenger seat before Kíli poked him in the ribs and he got out, his younger brother shuffling out of the middle of the bench seat. Thorin stood before his nephews and shrugged.

"This is it." he said and nodded toward the door. "Come on inside." He walked up the stairs, leaving the bothers next to the truck, both with their singular rucksacks, Kíli following before his older brother. The interior of the house was conspicuously clean and well cared for, a strong contrast to the yard and the owner. It was bright inside, and warm, 'homey' for anyone but the two brothers. Last time Fili had seen their uncle the inside had been a typical bachelor pad, things piled on top of things, dishes soaking in the sink, ashtrays on every surface. And that had been familiar, home and comforting. But now. It was like walking into someone else's life.

"Uh, your rooms are at the top of the stairs if you want to go get settled." Thorin said pointing. "Kíli yours is at the end of the hall on the right. Fíli you've got the turret room"

"So considerate." Fíli muttered as his brother started up the stairs.

"Fíli." Thorin replied, grabbing his nephew as he started for the stairs also, Kíli stopping halfway up. Thorin gave him a look, an understanding one and Fíli nodded slowly as the door opened again, and a man entered. The Durin family turned to watch him, he was short with a head of curly blonde hair. The man wore a dark jacket that was speckled with rain. He looked up as he dropped his keys on the table next to the door.

"Oh. Hello." He smiled. "Fíli, and Kíli I presume? Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"Fíli,"

"And Kíli"

"At yours…." The boy said looking to their uncle, who opened and closed his mouth a few times before putting his hands on his hips.

"Right. Yeah. Good." Thorin nodded "You've all met. Now, Fíli, I was saying, your room is in the turret"

"Hold up." Fíli said looking between the man who'd entered, with his pocket handkerchief and waistcoat (since when had waistcoats come back into fashion?) to his uncle, with a tangled ponytail and leather jacket.

"Who is this, Boggins person?" His brother finished his thought for him.

Thorin rubbed the back of his head and pulled a few faces. "He's uh… He lives here. With me. Like… as a partner."

"Like a gardener?" Kíli asked from the stairs.

"No." Fíli answered. "Like a lover." He turned from the pair of men and started for the stairs as Kíli smirked and wolf whistled at his uncle. "Let's go." Fíli told his brother grabbing his arm and pulling him up the stairs disappearing down the hall. Once both boys were gone, and Fíli's door was slammed, Thorin slumped, rubbing his forehead, and breathing deep. Bilbo crossed to him and wrapped his arms around him, holding him softly. Thorin opened his mouth and Bilbo shushed him.

"It's okay. It's a bad situation." He whispered "He'll be okay."

"I hope so."

The room was a maze of cardboard boxes, each of them specifying that they were Fíli's, with a detailed list of the inventory of each box. Fíli had spent every afternoon in his old room making the lists. They had been his excuse for staying indoors while all the other teenagers were making bad choices. They had been his excuse for staying home, for avoiding people asking if he was okay, if his mom was alright. Of course she wasn't alright. But it wasn't as if the concerned glances helped at all. So he'd stayed home, packing, making lists, listening to loud music.

Fíli crossed to one tower of boxes and moved a few boxes before opening one with his switch blade and digging around until he pulled out his stereo, a small black box that he plugged into the outlet next to his new bed, plugging his phone in and pushing play. More loud music. The bed was done up with colorfully striped sheets and a comforter. It was as if his uncle's boyfriend had tried to make the room welcoming for Fíli. Fíli rolled his eyes and stripped the bed quickly, dumping the bedding in the hall. He had his own sheets thank you very much.

Inside the room again he kicked off his boots, letting him fall, slumped like old skin at the end of his bed, his leather jacket draped over the footboard. Fíli jumped onto the bed leaning against the head board and exhaling slowly before digging into his rucksack, pulling out a hand-rolled cigarette from his case, lighting it and pulling his knees to his chest as Korpiklaani and tobacco smoke filled his room.

He didn't know how long he sat there, using a soda can as an ashtray, but finally there was a knock on the door and Thorin entered his room, stepping over the bedding with a look.

"I hope you didn't burn a hole in those sheets." Thorin said standing at the door. Fíli opened his eyes shook his head.

"No. Its just that I have my own sheets." He said. "They're mustard yellow." He added.

"I know." Thorin said sitting on the bed with a small smile. "I'm sorry. I should have told you about Bilbo."

Fíli shrugged and tapped off his ashes as his uncle lit up his own cigarette. "It's okay. Just. It's like everything is suddenly different." He shrugged again.

"I know. And it was wrong of me to think it would be alright to throw you into a situation without tell you all the details." Thorin said patting Fíli's knee. "But you will give Bilbo a chance? He's a very nice man. He makes me laugh."

"I haven't seen you laugh since dad's funeral." Fíli muttered.

"Blasphemy! Do not spread lied about me child!" Thorin laughed reaching out and ruffling Fíli's hair.

"Hey ya! Don't touch my hair!" The teenager replied laughing and waving his hand in front of himself blindly.

"Don't speak lies!" Thorin retorted as his laughter subsided and his nephew tried to pat down his hair. "Bilbo's gonna think you stripped the sheets because you hate him." Thorin sighed looking toward the door.

"He did give me 12 year-old girl sheets." Fíli smiled a little reaching to relight his cigarette. "I'll apologize to him." Thorin smiled too.

"Good." He stood then, and nodded looking around the room ."Well. I'll leave you to y'know, get everything sorted."

"Thorin?" Fíli asked as Thorin started to leave. "When are we gonna get to see mom?"

"Soon." Thorin replied.

"Really?"

"I hope."

Fíli retreated from his cave of cigarette smoke when Bilbo stuck his head in to announce dinner, a statement that Fíli tried to hide his enthusiasm about, but failed at as he jumped from his bed, yanking his phone from the headphone jack on the stereo. Bilbo seemed pleased to have received this response, and ignored the bedding piled at the door. Bilbo left the room, but was soon chased down by the teenager, the boy was taller then Bilbo, by at least four inches and he was the short one in his family.

"I'm sorry about earlier." Fíli said shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatshirt. "And the sheets," He added quickly. "It's not like I don't like them, well I don't, and I don't hate you, I just, I have my own see...?"

Bilbo looked up at the youth and smiled "It is perfectly fine. I understand." Fíli smiled a touch before Bilbo added "I didn't lose my parents young, and I could never try to understand your pain, but know that I am here, should you ever need to talk to someone."

A muscle in Fíli's jaw clenched and he said quietly "My mom ain't dead yet." Bilbo opened his mouth once more to say that he was aware, but the younger sibling rushed up the stairs to grab hold of his brother's hand and, with excited words, exclaimed that there was actual food downstairs, like with meat and vegetables and gravy, oh by the King of Kazad-dûm, they had gravy.

"Fíli, come on, you've just got to see this spread!" Kíli crowed pulling his brother along, down the stairs and into the kitchen, where there was a roast chicken sitting in a glass dish with all manner of colorful root vegetables, purple potatoes and carrots and rutabagas and parsnips and onions, all floating in the fat and juices of the chicken.

"See?!" Kíli happily exclaimed "Not that frozen stuff you used to make." Fíli nodded, his eyes a tad wide with amazement at the food before them. Their uncle stood before the stove, carving up the bird, as his nephews crowded him happily trying to pick at the bird while he cut it into manageable pieces. Bilbo watched from the door, amused by the brothers, and yet still bothered by the look Fíli had given him in the hall, he had not meant to offend the boy, and yet, it seemed like he had done just that.

"What would you boys like to drink?" Bilbo asked finally, shaking himself as he watched them serve themselves, their fingers slick with grease.

"I'll have a lager, yeah?" Fíli said, only his uncle catching the narrow smirk on his nephew's lips.

"He's kidding." Thorin announced at Bilbo's entirely concerned look. "He's totally... kidding." Thorin shot his older nephew a look and Fíli's eyes danced with a dark light. "Stop it, yeah? Stop." He gave Fíli a look and pointed at him with a finger that's nail was black as soot, dead from being smashed at work.

"Fine," Fíli said still smirking as he made an apologetic gesture. "Just root beer then, if you've got it."

"I'll be the one having the lager then." Kíli nodded jumping up on the counter.

"You couldn't hold your liquor if they paid you." Fíli rolled his eyes as he stuffed a chuck of chicken into his mouth. His brother shot him a look and smirked.

"I'm not the one who woke up after a party in our linen closet now am I?" Kíli asked as Fíli shout him a dirty look from the door joining the kitchen to the dinning room, eyes wide as he turned to glance at his uncle. Thorin gave him a disapproving glance and Fíli let out a sheepish smile,

"Don't tell mom?" He suggested and Thorin shook his head minutely as the group proceeded into the dinning room.

"Oh no she's going to here about this." He said as they took seats around the table and the boys made no motion to use their utensils, digging into the chicken and vegetables and gravy with their bare hands. Bilbo watched them with wide eyes and flat expression before turning to share the look with his lover. Thorin shrugged before starting in on his own meal, with a knife and fork mind you.